A Life of Mutual Killing
by angelfrom221b
Summary: Sixteen people are accepted into Hope's Peak Academy — the world's most prestigious school in Japan. Being accepted into the school meant you were one of the best in the real world, and that graduating from Hope's Peak opened many doors. Unfortunately for these specific sixteen people, the doors opened for them are the ones that lead to a life of mutual killing.


This has been a crossover my friend had thought of and wanted me to write. If you have the time, and have noticed any mistake in spelling or grammar, please tell me. But a lot of the sentences here with wrong grammar were on purpose (there was an inside joke with another friend, so that's the reason why). This can also be found on my personal Tumblr, the-gregorian-schaerk.

Please not that this is just a story about Hetalian nations forced into a situation much like the situation(s) in Danganronpa.

* * *

Alfred had walked past the Academy more than once, and yet not a single time had he felt this strange sense of dread in his gut. But that was probably because Matthew wouldn't join him inside the academy at least until a few hours later, when his shift's over.

He stared at the building that loomed over him, past the dark and wide gates that were open for him, painted a dark burgundy red and he could see through the windows the students that chattered about.

It looked like an ordinary boarding school to Alfred; its plain yet large exterior just reminded him of his old previous school. _But this isn't a regular old boarding school_, Alfred reminded himself. _It's the biggest and most awesome school _ever_! And I get to go here for free!_ He looked back down at the letter in his hands, reading it for the hundredth time.

A letter was given to him, regarding an invite and a scholarship he'd been dreaming of for the past few years. He'd been struggling since his parents died at a young age and a ticket to a ticket to the big industry had presented itself to him.

Shouldn't he be happy?

Because all that he ever wanted was given to him, granted by some god-like force, and it could lead to something big! Something that could help him and his brother and aid them for the rest of their lives. His _big break_.

He _should_ be happy! Not feeling like someone was going to die right in front of his eyes soon enough.

"Maybe it's like one of those times you get too excited you start feeling scared..." He muttered under his breath. "Like those sudden panic attacks you'd get." Alfred breathed shakily and put his letter back into his pack, shouldering it once he was done.

"I'm probably just over-feeling or something like that. Nothing too serious."

From inside the building he could hear a bell ring, probably signifying the end of a break. As he watched the students through the windows dashing off to their classrooms, Alfred tried to get rid of the despair he felt. It wouldn't be a good first impression if the principal saw him sweating his palms and running his mouth like a sailor from the old pirate films.

He really didn't want that.

Once the sight of students were gone, Alfred clenched his fists and held his head high.

"I'm gonna do this so I could help me and Matt, so neither of us have to work hard ever again." He said to himself. "So if I back out, then all that's gone. Poof. So I shouldn't fuck up."

He repeated his last sentence again in his mind before he took another step. Just as his foot stepped on the ground the despair he felt inside worsened, probably doing something to his brain, too, if he wasn't too dizzy to realize.

His surroundings blurred in his vision, its colours blending in distastefully as they all dulled to a shade of black. There was ringing in his ears and he could feel the earth beneath him give way.

The ringing grew louder as he clamped his hands down onto his ears, collapsing on his knees as his vision blurred even more.

_What the fuck-_

His train of thought was cut off completely when a searing pain had flitted past. Alfred groaned in pain and squeezed his eyes shut, hoping to block out the pain.

It didn't.

* * *

When Alfred came to, he felt as dizzy and disoriented as the times he ended up with a hangover. Needless to say, his head hurt - _a lot_ - and for a good while, he couldn't see anything than colours melting into one another. By the time his vision cleared he blinked and shook his head, groaning at the headache that came in full force.

As he checked his surroundings, Alfred could only make out a few things. First, he was in a classroom with rows upon rows of empty desks surrounding Alfred. No one sat on the chairs, and it was like it hadn't been used in a long while. Second, the walls were plated with steel for reasons Alfred couldn't possibly know - it must have been heavy, from the looks of it. Third, and last, the blackboard was in front, wide and broad, and on it was written a message for whoever was inside the room, written in blue chalk.

_Mornin' sleepyhead, you hit your head quite hard over there! If you're reading this, then that means you're a-okay! Go to the gymnasium before eight, else you'll get a punishment ... and on the first day, too! Wouldn't want that, would we?_

Despite the bright and cheerful colours, the message felt like a threat to Alfred. He really didn't know why, but it felt as though that felt familiar. Maybe he'd seen it in a dream before? Alfred _did_ dream up a lot of weird stuff every other night. Oh well.

"This is really strange," He muttered under his breath. "If I hit my head, then shouldn't I be in the infirmary and not in some abandoned classroom?" There was no answer, and honestly, he wasn't expecting any. Alfred went through his pockets, searching for his phone. "Now where did I leave that phone...?"

He fished through the pockets of his jeans, and the inside pockets of his bomber jacket, as well. But he couldn't find his phone, no matter where he looked. "What the-"

Panic surged up in his chest and he felt worry. What happened to him? Where was his phone? And why was there a passive-aggressive note on the blackboard?

Alfred glanced at the clock that hung above the blackboard. _7:45 AM_, it read. He sighed and pushed his chair back, standing up and leaving the classroom. "I'm gonna be late-"

The hallways had looked far more different than the rooms. There were less steel plates on its walls, and it was painted in a bright shade of violet. By the ceiling hung several signs, written in more than five languages, that directed towards the gymnasium, infirmary, audience hall, cafeteria, and the dormitories.

"They have signposts?" He asked aloud. "This place must be big." He turned to the right, where the sign had pointed the gymnasium to, and went on his way.


End file.
